Finally
by rainbowstarkid
Summary: Romano can't hide his feelings for Spain much longer. Then he gets invited to dinner.


Romano was conflicted.

He sat on his bed, turning over a white envelope several times in his hands. It contained an invitation to dinner that night, which was something he would normally be fine with if it had come from Belgium or anyone else he got along well with.

But the invite was from Spain.

When he was a kid, Romano thought that he would hate his boss forever. He felt that he was too pushy, dense, and annoyingly cheerful. But as he grew up he began realizing that he never liked it when Spain was away with another country or even just praising one that wasn't him. Maybe he didn't express it straightforwardly, but he could always feel small pangs of jealousy when Spain talked about Austria or France.

Even after Romano became independent they continued seeing each other, mostly at the world meetings. Spain tended to side with him in a lot of discussions, and the more and more he supported Romano, the more and more Romano couldn't help but admire and like him.  
All of these feelings only became stronger as the years went by, and as much as he denied it to himself and didn't want to believe it, Romano knew exactly what was going on. He was one half of the country of romance for Pete's sake.

Part of him didn't want to love Spain. It was very possible that the other nation disliked him (after all those decades of disobeyment and trouble) and the cold reality of rejection unnerved him. If Spain didn't feel the same way, Romano would be devastated as well as horribly embarrassed. However the other part told him that there was a slim possibility that he could like him back. He did (and had), after all, defend and protect him, and always treat him kindly even when being treated rudely.  
Unfortunately Spain was such an oblivious bastard that it was almost impossible to tell what his real feelings were unless you had a deep conversation with him. But somehow, his innocent nature made him all the more cuter…

Romano shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and looked at the clock. It was already 9:30, meaning he would have to leave now if he wanted to make it on time. Then again, did it really matter? Spaniards were too easygoing to probably even care.

He exhaled and went downstairs. _Be cool, _he thought as he pulled on a coat. _Don't say anything you'll regret. Act natural. If he wants to say something, he'll have to come to you. _

He took a deep breath, hoped for the best, and left his house.

* * *

Spain's doorbell rang.

He quickly adjusted the collar of his shirt and opened the door. "Ah, Romano!" he greeted. "Good to see you my friend!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the Italian said, rolling his eyes. "You know I'm only here because I ran out of food at my own home right?"

Spain shrugged indifferently. "No matter, no matter. Hey, will you come help me finish preparing dinner? It's almost done." He didn't wait for a reply and beckoned Romano to follow as he shut the door.

As Romano trudged behind, he looked around the house that he used to live in. Memories of him constantly harassing his owner came flooding back to him and he wondered how Spain- or anyone else- had ever put up with him.

"Will you get some wine glasses from that cabinet?" Spain asked as they entered the kitchen. "I just have to heat up the tomato sauce for the spaghetti."

"You- you're making pasta?" Romano asked, his voice quavering slightly.

"Uh huh. It's your favorite, no?"

Romano made a quiet noise of affirmation. _Be cool,_ he thought.

When the pomodoro was warmed and poured over the noodles, Spain poured small amounts of wine into the cups and remarked, "The night is really pretty. Why don't we eat out on the porch?"

_That would be wonderful._ "Fine, whatever you want, I guess."

They headed outside and sat in wooden chairs with their plates in their laps and wine glasses on the floor of the deck. Facing them were luscious rolling green hills and a night sky with a full moon and thousands of twinkling stars. With pasta in his lap and Spain at his side, Romano thought it was perfect.

Was he acting too soft? He had yet to curse at Spain, and had even complied with his orders instead of his usual 'I'm not your slave anymore' reply. To try and even things out, he began wolfing down his food impolitely as Spain slowly ate his own.

A few moments passed as the only sound was the noise of him chewing with his mouth open.

"Romano," Spain said.

Feeling Spain's eyes on him, Romano ignored him and kept scarfing down his dinner.

"Romano," Spain said again, chuckling this time.

"Can't you see I'm eating?" he growled through a mouthful of pasta.

"Yes, but you've got sauce all over your face!"

The Italian put a hand to his cheek. Feeling the chunks of pomodoro he began to blush, giving the full effect that his head was a tomato. He had a sudden desire for Spain to slowly lick it off, but immediately mentally scolded himself. When he heard the Spanish laughter he came back to earth and wiped himself with his sleeve. "Oh shut up you taco eating bastard," he grumbled instinctively. Better.

Spain took the sting without flinching as he always did. A few more quiet moments passed before he spoke up. "You know, Romano, even though you were kind of an ass as a baby, I sometimes really miss looking after you."

Romano gave him a sideways glance. He couldn't tell if he was joking or just plain dumb.

"It's the truth," the Spanish country said as if having read Romano's mind. "I really cared for you." He paused and took a sip of wine. "I still do."

What to say? Romano was at a loss for words. How the hell was he supposed to reply to that? He thought about insulting Spain again but was unable to form a sentence in his mind. _He actually cares for you._

Spain sighed sadly and continued. "I never felt that you liked me though. And even now I know you probably still think I'm a douche."

"Don't say that," Romano blurted out.

Spain turned to him and raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Spain, I don't think that you idiot!" he said before he could stop himself. "I d…I don't hate you! In fa-"

He froze, suddenly realizing what was about to come out.

Well, now he had screwed things up. Romano quickly stood, knocking over his plate. He had to leave before revealing too much. "I have to go," he said with a crack in his voice. He ran back into the house, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

He was vaguely aware of his name being called and then footsteps chasing after him but he didn't dare turn around. _Idiot!_ He thought bitterly. Both him and Spain. Him for nearly spilling the beans and Spain for being such a tease. He was so angry that he didn't even jump when two hands clamped down on his shoulders.

"Hey Romano!" Spain cried from behind him. "You can't just leave! We were talking."

Romano tried wriggling free but the other young man was startlingly strong. Or maybe it was just the fact that he felt woozy from being touched by him.

He stopped trying to struggle. There was no use. He slowly turned his head to the side and closed his eyes in exasperation. "What do you want," he spoke rather than asked.

"I want you to come sit on the couch with me," Spain said, his tone suddenly serious and forceful. Then he took the other nation's hand and Romano's eyes popped open. As he was lead to the living room, he prayed that Spain couldn't feel his rising heart rate.

The two sat side by side on the couch, Romano trying not to look at the person next to him. They were silent for a long time until Spain, once again, broke the silence.

"So, uh, you enjoy spending time with me?" he asked casually.

_Yes._ "I never said that."

"But you said you didn't hate me," Spain pointed out. "And you did agree to dinner with me."

"Fine, I like company!" Romano snapped.

"Aha!" Spain shouted, pointing a finger. "I knew the story about the food was a lie!"

This usually would have angered Romano, but he was suddenly distracted by a tiny voice in the back of his mind.

_Tell him! _It hissed. _Tell the bastard you love him! He obviously feels the same way, can't you see? Just let it all out and everything will be fine!_

Go away, Romano told it.

_Tell him first,_ it insisted.

Leave me alone I said!

_Do it you fool!_

"I can't, damnit!" he said out loud.

Shit.

He tried to relax himself. Maybe Spain hadn't heard him.

"You can't what?"

Shit.

Romano's mind frantically searched for an answer. "Um, dah," he said stupidly. He was beginning to wave his hands mindlessly when he suddenly felt Spain gently take his chin and turn it so they were eye to eye.

"You can tell me," he said. His voice vibrated on Romano's lips.  
There was no way out of this one. As he stared into those mesmerizing green eyes, the red-faced Romano could only form a single thought: _Curse that sexy tomato-loving bastard._

Without taking time to think about what he was doing, Romano leaned in and kissed Spain on the mouth.

The minute they touched, Romano thought he was going to regret it wand have to run away and change his name forever. But as the seconds passed, he realized that not only was it extremely hard to pull away from those Spanish lips, but also that Spain was kissing him back.

And when he felt the strong hands on his shoulders again, Romano couldn't resist wrapping his own arms around Spain's body, removing any space that between them.

After what seemed like an eternity-although it was probably just a few wonderful seconds- the two countries slowly pulled apart, staring at each other and panting ever so slightly.

It was only a moment before Spain pulled Romano back, not for a kiss, but just to hold him close. Romano pressed his nose and lips into Spain's puffy shirt, breathing in his scent and wishing he could live in that moment forever.

"Oh Lovi," Spain said with a smile. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

Romano grinned to himself too, but a sudden thought popped into his head and he frowned. "Then why didn't you?" he asked into Spain's shirt.

"What? I-"

Romano lifted himself off of Spain. "Why didn't you do anything like that before? Damnit, you Spanish jerk moron, I've wanted to tell you how I feel for ages now!"

"I, I told you," Spain stammered, baffled, "I thought you hated me-"

"Screw whatever I think!" Romano yelled, his throat tightening. "We could have been together for who knows how long instead of having to pretend to hate each other!" He willed himself not to cry, but Spain was making it hard- er, difficult.

Spain scooted closer and kissed Romano's cheek, wiping away a single tear that was streaming down his face. "Don't cry, mi Lovi," he said calmly. "We're together now, right?"

Romano was quiet. He knew he shouldn't be mad. After all, he too, could have easily confessed earlier. It all seemed like a breeze now that their feelings were at least somewhat out. He knew Spain must have known that too, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Romano prepared himself for the retort. But instead, four words came out that caught him completely off guard.

"I love you Lovino."

The words bounced around in his ears. Time seemed to slow down and he wondered if he was dreaming. It certainly felt like that. A minute passed. Then two more.

When Spain finally realized he wasn't going to get an answer he sighed. "Well, you wanted to leave right?" he asked quietly. "I'll walk you to the door. He stood and waited for Romano, who was gazing at the floor with his mouth parted slightly.

Very slowly he got up and they walked, not exactly together, to the entrance of the house. Still looking dazed, Romano put his hand on the doorknob and opened it to a cool breeze. Right when he was about to step out, he heard Spain's voice from behind him.

"Romano, you're welcome here anytime," he said. "When you're feeling better, I would love to spend another night with you. But if I don't see you…. Well, just remember what I said."

Romano was still for a split second. Then, fast as lighting he whirled around, grabbed Spain's face, and kissed him hard and passionately a second time.

When he broke away Romano stared the Spaniard in the eyes.

"I love you too Antonio," he finally said. Then he spun on his heel and walked into the night, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Author's Note.

Hooray for my first fanfic! It is my first, so don't kill me if it sucks :(. I really wanted to do this story since Spamano is one of my favorite Hetalia pairings, but I kept writing and re-writing it since I was never happy with it. I hope you are at least somewhat satisfied by the final product! Maybe someday I'll come back and continue Spain and Romano's story, but there are others I'd like to get to first.

Disclaimers: a) I do not own Hetalia. B) I came up with this story and plot before checking out other fanfics. If any part of this story resembles one that you've written or read, it is purely coincidental.

Thanks so much for reading! Means a lot to me!


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